


Dragonsreach Dungeon

by Dragonsire21



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Argonians, Bondage and Discipline, Comforting, Corporal Punishment, Crying, Devious Devices, Emotions, Gen, Khajiit - Freeform, Non-Sexual, Orcs, Other, POV First Person, Pain, Prison, Prison Overhaul, Public Humiliation, Public Nudity, Punishment, Skyrim Sexlab Mods, Whiterun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 02:02:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14582481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonsire21/pseuds/Dragonsire21
Summary: So you want to know the whole story about what happened that day in the markets? I suppose I have some time to kill. Just so you know this story isn't one I particularly enjoy telling. We've all had our highs and lows in life, but this is truly one of the lowest times that I have ever managed to reach in all of my time so far. Since you still seem eager to listen I guess I'll tell you all about it.





	Dragonsreach Dungeon

So you want to know the whole story about what happened that day in the markets? I suppose I have some time to kill, the servant just stoked the fire and I'm not about to turn down a tankard of mead. Just so you know this story isn't one I particularly enjoy telling. We've all had our highs and lows in life, but this is truly one of the lowest times that I have ever managed to reach in all of my time so far. Since you still seem eager to listen I guess I'll tell you all about it.

 

It all started I think 6 days ago. I had just arrived in Whiterun a hungry, tired and emotionally-distraught traveller. Somewhere up the road from the farms I had been robbed by a group of bandits and nearly killed. It took a lot of convincing for them to finally untie me and let me go, not after taking everything I had on me, though. That includes whatever gold I had at the time. It wasn't much, but it was all I had. I knew I wouldn't have stood a chance against them if I tried to fight. The orc would have single-handedly broken both of my arms before I could even draw my sword-- well dagger. No sense in holding on to whatever pride I lost.

 

The markets were full of people. Birds were singing, the sky was blue, you know, all of that poetic shit. My stomach was growling and I was trying to hide the tear stains that were still fresh on my cheeks. One nord woman looked like she felt bad for me. Another scoffed in my direction as if I were just discarded trash. Guess that's just the way things work around here. All I cared about was somewhere to rest my head and to get something to eat. I'd heard a lot about the Bannered Mare so of course I set my sights on that and made my way through the bustling crowd.

 

This is where things started to get rough. I left out one crucial detail up to this point: I wasn't alone when I arrived. I was accompanied by an Argonian traveller whose name I hadn't gotten the chance to learn. I know what you're thinking right now, and my nerves were already shot because of the recent bandit attack. He had been kind enough to give me some support, as I am new to the hold and had some good luck with not being raided up until this point. Once we'd reached the tavern I'd remembered that my money was stolen. Great, I'm stuck. Seeing the predicament I'm in the Argonian offered to help me if I was willing to get my hands dirty. Of course what can I say? If it meant I could get food and sleep I was willing to kill a man-- figuratively speaking of course.

 

I have to admit the look in the eye of someone who's experienced in that line of work is like a sabercat stalking its prey. Somehow he knew just the person to pickpocket who would have the most valuable item to sell in a pinch. How he managed to pick her was beyond me, but this wasn't just any regular woman. We move in to do the deed. The Argonian was going to cause a distraction and I was going to grab a pendant that was hanging out of her pocket. I will never understand why someone would leave jewelry hanging out like this, but whatever. This needed to be done even if I would hate myself later for it. I was crouched down behind some barrels waiting for the right moment to snatch the pendant and make a run for it. The distraction he'd set up was pretty good. I'd never thought it would have worked, but I'll be damned if that woman wasn't completely enthralled by the way he tried to swoon her with clever words and debaucherous musings. It's like his tongue was as sharp as his dagger, nothing of the likes of anything I'd ever seen before.

 

I reached out to grab the pendant. It was risky because my cover was not as great as I would have hoped it would be. One of the townsfolk must have noticed and tipped her off. I had the pendant in my hand when she turned around. The look on her face was something I can't forget. I knew I'd just done her wrong. My heart sank into the pits of my stomach. In that moment the only thing I could ask myself was, "was this worth it?" In a panic I bolted away from everyone along the wall separating the upper parts of Whiterun and the market. I knew I didn't have much time. I needed to hide and fast. Everywhere I looked I couldn't find a place that would give me enough cover to get out of sight. Perhaps it was the adrenaline running through me, or the sheer terror I felt of thinking about what would happen if I was caught.

 

Being a "man" or a "true nord" as they call it was never something I could do. Despite everything I've tried I can't bring myself to hurt anyone, let alone kill someone in a battle. Once I was held prisoner in a bandit's fort near Solitude for nearly three days. I was lost and unfortunately happened to walk into the wrong place looking for help. My friendly nature was probably what saved my life there, because if it were up to my battle skills I would be a corpse on the side of the road somewhere. I knew this wasn't going to save me here. Finally with no options or any way out I managed to find a walkway that lead up above the main gate of Whiterun. There were a few lookout spots for guards to watch the main road that runs from the gate through town. The entire time I was making a hiding spot for myself I never once let go of that woman's pendant. I would later learn that it was in fact a Battle-Born that I had just robbed and was lucky that she didn't just behead me with the knife she had on her side. I still couldn't get that look of disgust out of my mind. She scorned my very being. It was a pain that cut deeper than any axe could.

 

Still clutching the pendant in my hand I tried to stay as quiet as I could. My breath started to waver and I knew I couldn't hide forever. My chest tightened as I tried to fight back tears once again. There was tremendous guilt hanging over my head like a storm cloud. I couldn't bear the thought of what was happening to the Argonian who happened to be my only friend through this whole ordeal. I abandoned him in the marketplace when we both could have made our escape. Instead of waiting and thinking things through I panicked and threw any common sense out the window as I sprinted away from him in terror. My only hope would be that he would forgive me if he was still alive. I caught myself crying again when I'd heard footsteps coming up the ramp I'd used to reach the overlook. This was it, I knew they had me. A wave of yellow and shimmering steel poured through the gate to be greeted to what must have been a wonderful sight. A scrawny, useless "Imperial kid" clutching the only thing that he had managed to steal and sobbing uncontrollably at the thought of what he'd done. It wasn't one of my higher points in life. All of this over maybe a few septims at most.

 

They talked amongst themselves wondering what to do with me. I knew they were going to make an arrest, I could feel it. I got to my hands and knees and crawled towards them. I pleaded with them not to hurt me and that I would surrender to them. Finally one of the guards had told me to get to my feet. I did as instructed while still holding that damned necklace in my hand as though my life depended on it. Finally he belted out the dreaded line I'd been waiting to hear: "You have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people. What say you in your defense?"

 

I could have lied and said that it was handed to me. That still would have gotten me absolutely nowhere. If it just  _ happened  _ to end up in my hand then why did they find me a sobbing mess with it still in my clutches and hiding from them in the lookout? More than anything I wanted to know that the Argonian was okay and that they didn't hurt him. I offered to give myself up and tell them everything if they could tell me what happened to him first. Amazingly one of them had told me that he was being taken to the dungeon at Dragonsreach and that he went quietly. Tears began to well in my eyes again as I sighed and turned around with my hands behind my back. My only request was that I wanted to return the pendant to Miss Battle-Born and apologize. I wanted her to know that I was not a dirty thief, but rather a victim of circumstance. I didn't want her to hate me.

 

There was a lot more to being arrested than I'd thought there would be. It wasn't just wrist irons that they locked their prisoners in. After my wrists were shackled behind my back an iron collar was locked around my neck as if I were some kind of animal. My ankle irons had just enough chain length to allow me to walk at a decent pace. Sprinting or even jogging in these would be nearly impossible without tripping and falling on my face. Shortly after all of this was done I was being lead up the main road of Whiterun on a chain attached to my collar. All of this over a few septims at most.

 

One of the guards had noticed Miss Battle-Born walking through the market visibly upset at the loss of her necklace. When she saw the guards coming towards her with me in tow her face had lit up in the most wicked of ways. I couldn't blame her, to be fair. If someone had stolen from me I would probably have done the same. What she probably wasn't expecting was for them to stop in front of her and beckon for her to come closer. My left hand was freed from its shackle for only a few moments while I tearfully handed her necklace back to her. Once I was shackled up again I suddenly felt someone's boot hit me in the back of my leg. As I fell to my knee another kick sent me to the ground in front of her. The guard holding my leash demanded that I fulfill my end of the bargain and beg her forgiveness. Defeated and utterly humiliated I profusely apologized to her while my head was forced to the ground by the guard's foot. Once they felt I had done my part I was pulled back up from the dirt and lead to the dungeon.

 

I had hoped that I would get to see Dragonsreach under better circumstances. Truthfully it was as glorious as I had always heard about, even when I was being lead like a dog past it. They say that there was once a dragon trapped somewhere within that wonderful palace. I think I knew how it felt. The dungeon was surprisingly much nicer than I'd imagined a dungeon would look. It felt homely inside. I can't believe that I'm still saying that now, but my expectations were much lower for a place like-- well a prison. I was met by a few other guards who quickly took the leash and checked me for any other stolen items. I'd told them that I didn't have anything else on me but I wasn't so sure they were listening at that point. To be fair who would listen to a thief, anyhow? Things weren't so bad at first. They'd asked me about what happened, why I'd done it, basically things that I would expect someone to ask when trying to get the bigger picture. What I didn't know at the time was that they were also building a case to put in front of the Jarl, whom I'd heard knew how to deal with people fairly but at the same time sternly. By then I was also looking for my Argonian friend whom I'd lost earlier in the square.

 

As I was lead into the next room I'd finally learned of what had come of him. Out of the corner of my eye I'd seen what looked to be someone with green skin sitting on a nearby bench. I looked to my left and sure thing there he was-- naked and chained to the wall. He hadn't been assigned a cell yet. They were waiting for me to get there before they did anything further. A guard positioned himself in the doorway leading to the exit while another positioned himself in the doorway leading into where the cells were. All restraints except my collar were removed. The guard overseeing all of this must have thought I was stupid judging by the way I was looking at him. I knew what was going to happen, my Argonian friend told me all about it without ever saying a word. He looked down towards the floor so that he wouldn't have to look me in the eyes. I understood completely.

 

"Alright prisoner, remove your clothes and hand them to the guard behind you. Don't try anything you'll regret unless you want a sword through your gullet."

 

Prisoner. That's all I was to them. Hell the entire time I'd been there that's all I'd been called. Prisoner this, prisoner that. All part of the punishment, I suppose. Just another criminal who couldn't keep himself out of trouble, even if he knew that he himself wasn't a criminal. One thing that I quickly learned was that prisons can be drafty. Before I could cover myself after having my clothes taken from me my hands were shackled behind my back and my ankles were shackled once again as well. They did the same to the Argonian and lead us both to the farthest cell the dungeon had to offer. There were prisoners of all types in Dragonsreach. As mean as this may sound the Khajiit didn't really surprise me. I could tell that the only Orc they had down there was a brigand. Super defiant little prick. I think they only way they could shut him up was to finally use some kind of sleeping spell on him.

 

Before the guard walked away after locking our cell door I asked him what would happen next. Truthfully I didn't want to know, but I also didn't want to be surprised by anything either. I'm sure he could tell by the tear stains on my cheeks that I wasn't about to be an asshole about it. He told me as matter-of-fact as he could that my friend whom at this point I still don't know of the name of and myself would go in front of the Jarl to discuss sentencing. I wouldn't have thought that we would be the Jarl's problem, but you learn something new everyday I guess. Another question I'd asked him was what to expect when being brought in to explain myself. The answer I got was a simple, "don't lie to him. Jarl Bulgruuf does not appreciate those who lie to him and it will make things much worse for you in the end."

 

Now let's talk about the Argonian. I too found it very pathetic that I hadn't actually learned his name yet up until the point that we were sharing a jail cell together. I also will be completely honest in saying that I am grateful for him being there to keep my spirits up through it all.

 

He'd asked where I was from and why I was travelling to Whiterun. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that I was a failing hunter up around Solitude. Every time I would try to bring something down I could never make the kill. Talk about a real confidence booster. Arrows never hit their mark and one time I'd even managed to break the arms of my bow. I still can't explain how that happened.

 

When I asked him the same question he told me that he had decided to leave Windhelm once and for all. The years of mistreatment criminally low pay finally took its toll on him and he didn't want any more of it. Who can blame him, even I hate Windhelm with a passion. Political issues aside the city itself is a cesspool of racism and intolerance that made me want to vomit just walking through the main gate. Once our rather informal introductions were out of the way I finally asked him what his name was.

 

"Walks-In-Shadows, friend," is what he told me. Quite fitting for someone who has experience with thievery, but also bitterly ironic given our situation at the time. Things felt friendly between us despite what had just happened but there was still very much a mammoth in the room that I was trying to find the courage to address. I'm sure he could tell from the very start, I'm not very good at hiding secrets. I've been told that my face is like an open book. If I try to lie all someone has to do is just look me in the eye and it all falls apart. I guess this was no exception. It didn't help that the storm clouds of guilt were rolling in at awe-inspiring speeds.

 

Before I'd had the chance to bring up what happened he told me that he understood why I ran away. Stole the thought right out of my mind. Walks seemed pretty unphased by it. To me it seemed like he'd been through it before. He just kept standing with his shoulder against the wall staring out into the hallway through the bars of our cell. I was worried that he wouldn't forgive me. My only friend I'd made thus far and I'd tossed it all away. I just sat on the bed and tried to come up with a response. How do you even respond to something like that? A simple "I'm sorry" was the worst possible answer. If anything I would have found it downright insulting.

 

He came and sat on the bed next to me. I came clean about my fear of what he was thinking about me at that point. What else did I have to say, anyways? To my surprise he put his arm around my shoulders and told me that it wasn't his first go-round with failed operations. What  _ was  _ his first time though was being caught and arrested for screwing something up. Talk about a record-breaking performance. The whole reason for why we had even schemed it up in the first place was just the icing on this cake of shame. It wasn't all bad though. He must have seen the tears dripping from my cheeks. After saying some comforting words the next thing he'd told me almost dropped my heart to the bed straw. He told me, "it's not your fault. I would have done the same in your shoes. Don't let it hang over your head, I forgive you."

 

Walks-In-Shadows and I had a rough waking up the next morning. I didn't hear the guards come in when we were picked up and our shackles were put back on us. I'd forgotten that they never removed our collars the day before. We found ourselves being lead on chains -- completely unclothed mind you -- towards the door closest to our cell. It wasn't in the same direction that we had come in before being locked up so I somewhat eagerly awaited to see what was beyond this door. Part of me was thankful we didn't have to walk in public the way we were, but then I'd remembered the crucial detail that we were in fact going in front of the Jarl for sentencing. Well shit.

 

We passed through the guard's barracks on the way up. I could feel them watching us as we marched with our heads down to avoid making eye contact. Occasionally my gaze would wander, and at one point I'd wished it hadn't. I keenly remember seeing a barrel with a handle protruding from it. To anyone fortunate enough to never have been thrown in jail I wouldn't expect them to know what this handle meant. Above this ominous water barrel were various other restraints used on prisoners such as gags (or muzzles if you were a Khajiit or Argonian), blinding hoods and a couple of yokes lying on the floor beneath them. After seeing those tools I had a grave feeling that we weren't going to get off easy. We were definitely at the mercy of the Jarl on this one.

 

The other prisoners must have already had their sentencing handed down to them when we'd arrived. The combative Orc was being lead away, or well dragged away I should say without so much as a peep. He looked as though he'd fallen down a rocky hill a few times. Droplets of blood were dripping from his nostrils and a few cuts on his head and shoulders. My captors had my fullest obedience after seeing that pretty sight. The look on Walks' face said exactly how I felt. We both couldn't help but try and follow what was going on before the door closed behind us.

 

As we rounded the top of the stairs we were told to wait in the room adjacent to the court. We both were told that we would be taken one at a time starting with the Argonian. I'm still not sure why because I was in front of him, but I wasn't about to question their logic for fear of being battered to a pulp like the orc was. The Khajiit prisoner and the Jarl were finishing up their conversation while we waited. Apparently he'd tried to rob someone outside of Whiterun's gate and the plan backfired horribly. The Nord he tried to rob was wounded in the altercation, which only made Jarl Balgruuf's judgement more harsh. He was sentenced to nearly thirty days in Dragonsreach Dungeon, with punishments to be dealt throughout his sentencing that he would receive. We didn't get to hear what they were but we could only assume the worst.

 

I watched as Walks was lead out in front of the Jarl. Without warning they kicked his legs hard dropping him to his knees. Then the guard holding his leash drew his sword and held it close to his head. Walks stayed put. Jarl Balgruuf felt something was missing and looked over to see me standing in the same spot. He beckoned the guard holding my leash forward so that I could join my accomplice on my knees next to him. Someone must have filled him in beforehand. Thankfully they allowed me to get to my knees willingly and the proceedings began.

 

We were given the chance to explain our crimes each in our own words. I had assumed that it was so that if we tried to lie we would be called out on it. Walks-In-Shadows started first, explaining that he was teaching me how to pickpocket in the event that I needed a last resort. When asked why we'd targeted the Battle-Born woman he responded that it wasn't planned, he just picked the first person he saw and she happened to be it.

 

When I was asked the same question I responded with my side of the story. I wasn't sure if Walks was actually teaching me anything at that point, but now that I think back on it I wonder if he was saying that as a cover for me. I explained that bandits had cleaned me out of everything I had just before I'd reached Whiterun. What little gold I had was now gone and I was left with nothing of value to get me anywhere. The theft was out of desperation, which truthfully it was. I also could have maybe slept on a bench inside of the Bannered Mare, but I wasn't about to mention that to him. He then asked about what happened to the necklace that was stolen. Surely he knew, someone must have told him. Regardless I explained that I had requested after I had been arrested to return it before being brought to jail. The necklace was returned and I had begged for her forgiveness. All I got was a nod in response.

 

There were more questions that were asked but I can't remember what they really were. I was too afraid at that point to pay attention to what was being asked of Walks-In-Shadows, but I knew that the Jarl was drilling him because he was an Argonian. Skyrim has its flaws and this was just one example of them. I sat quietly on my knees staring at the floor in terror while my friend had to vigorously defend himself for such a petty crime.

 

After it was all said and done there was a brief pause before our judgement was handed down to us. We were brought up to our feet as the Jarl told us what fate had in store for us. Since we both were involved at the same time we both would share the same judgment. Before he told us he asked someone who was behind us if she could confirm that her necklace was returned to her. It was Miss Battle-Born. By now my knees were beginning to shake. This woman had the power to absolutely destroy any chance of a merciful ruling, but she didn't. She even showed the Jarl the necklace that was stolen from her. Had I not have been made to beg at her feet the outcome would probably have been much different.

 

Once her testimony was given the Jarl looked over at us and stroked his beard. There were so many things that weren't adding up in that moment, like why Miss Battle-Born happened to be at Dragonsreach during our trial. I just counted my blessings and went with it. He took a second to think, but once he finally came around he told us that despite being very strict with thieves in the city he was willing to give us a break. His mercy wouldn't come without its price, though. Just hearing this made me want to throw up out of fear. We were to participate in that day's punishment out in the markets. Then rather than spend the three days in jail we were made an offer: either leave the city for those three days or work. If we chose to work we were to return to Dragonsreach at sundown to rest. While we could not be shackled our collars would not be removed until our time was served within the city walls.

 

I sighed and looked over at Walks-In-Shadows. We both had come so far to make it to Whiterun that leaving wasn't an option for either of us. We had nowhere to go and with a bandit fort due west of the city our safety was never guaranteed. The fear in his eyes was heartbreaking. It was obvious that Walks was fighting back tears. We both knew that public shaming was inevitable, no matter what we chose. There wasn't really much to say between us. We both were here with nothing to our names, so we both declared as our final decision, "we will work."

 

The Jarl's final "very well" was both relieving and at the same time scary. I wanted to tell Walks about the water barrel and restraint rack we'd passed by but I didn't want the guards to hear me. I didn't want to put him through any more than he was already dealing with. He went from a confident thief to the equivalent of a scared and timid child overnight. When we got back to our cell there wasn't much talking anymore. We both sat on the bed in silence and waited for our time to come. Tears came full force once again. Walks managed to keep his composure while I failed miserably to.

 

An hour or so had passed before we heard cell doors opening and the guards giving orders. We both stood up from the bed and waited for them to come get us. I couldn't get myself back together. There I stood a trembling, sniffing mess. Walks gave me a much needed hug with what time we had left. I just wanted it all to be over with. The wait was too much to bear. "Stay strong, everything will be okay." That's what he told me.

 

The walk from Dragonsreach Dungeon down to the markets had to be the longest in my life. The weather couldn't have been any better and the townsfolk were out enjoying themselves, much like I wanted to be. Instead I was paraded past them with nothing but an iron collar and shackles on my wrists and ankles as a reminder of what happens when you break the law. I had thought that the humiliation would end there, but I couldn't have been any more wrong.

 

There were two pillories sitting side by side near the well. One prisoner would wait in one while the other was served his punishment, then it would be his turn. That damned water barrel with the handle protruding from it sat alongside them as if taunting all of us. There were four prisoners in total who were to be punished that day. Walks-In-Shadows and I were the last two. Walking in front of us were the Khajiit and the Orc who looked much worse than the day before. People looked on as we shuffled our way towards impending doom.

 

I can still remember what the guard had said.

 

"Good people of Whiterun," he started, "at this hour these four prisoners will pay for the crimes that they have committed against you and all of Skyrim. To disrespect the law is to disrespect not only the guards of our city but the Jarl as well. It is by the Jarl's judgement that these prisoners will now face discipline in his name and in the name of Skyrim."

 

We all listened to him address the market from underneath a building's awning. I can't remember what the name of it was but I remember the shopkeeper looking rather shady as he passed by. The Orc and the Khajiit were the first two to go. Before they were walked over to the pillories a muzzle was placed around the Khajiit's head while a leather panel gag was fastened behind the Orc's head. A guard locked them both in a pillory before stepping away to let a third commence the punishment.

 

What came out of that water barrel was the worst fucking thing I could ever have imagined. A long paddle with holes cut into it to reduce air resistance was dripping with water over the top of the opened barrel. It was so heavy that the guard had to hold the thing with two hands and even then it was like he was holding a greatsword. I couldn't believe what I was seeing and quite frankly neither could Walks-In-Shadows. They announced how many smacks each prisoner would receive before they started. The Orc had twenty.

 

The guard lined the paddle up squarely with the Orc's exposed ass. I could see the Orc tense up when he could no longer feel the paddle anymore. I wanted to tell him to relax so that it wouldn't hurt as bad but that would only have made our punishments worse. This was also when I realized that we would even learn what we had in store for us. We were never told this during our trial. As soon as the paddle was high over the guard's shoulder he twisted his body and swung the paddle as hard as he could. The whistle it made before making its devastating impact against the Orc's backside was sickening. We watched and listened for nineteen more times before he was finally done. I can't say I've ever heard an Orc sob uncontrollably before.

 

After they'd finished with the Khajiit's fifty lashes both prisoners were locked in wooden yokes and returned to where we had started out underneath the awning. Walks and I were lead together up to the pillories which were now wet with the paddle's backsplash. The crowd jeered at us and hollered for the guards to do their worst. The paddle had been soaking since the Khajiit's lashes and was ready for action.

 

A guard approached me instructed me to open my mouth. As I did the gag was inserted and I could feel the straps tightening behind my head. The panel was wider than I'd thought it would be. Walks had a muzzle placed over his snout and strapped behind his head as well. A steel-clad hand forced me down into the waiting pillory and quickly closed its top bar over my wrists and neck. The click of the lock told me that there would be no escape. It was time to pay for my crimes.

 

"Well now, it appears as though the Jarl has been kind to the both of you today. It says here ten lashes for both of you in turn. I hope this serves as a reminder to you both the next time you want to go and break the law again."

 

I couldn't help the shakiness in my knees as I was forced to stand bent over for the world to see. That same terrified look that Walks had in his eyes with the Jarl had returned as he tilted his head in my direction. I knew he could see me crying again. The crowd was loving it. Occasionally I'd hear people egging me on, telling me to scream loud when they paddled my ass. Unlike the Khajiit Walks' tail was tied up behind his head by a ring that they'd fastened around the tip of it. I guess his tail was a bit too thick and would have offered some protection from the thrashing we were about to receive. I could hear the water running off of the paddle and dripping back into the barrel as it was removed. There's no doubt the guard was grinning something wicked underneath that helmet of his as he brandished that fucking thing. He asked me if I wanted something to cry about as he leveled it square against my rear.

 

The sensation of the soaking wet wood against the exposed skin of my ass is something I'll never forget. Being locked in the pillory only meant that I couldn't tell when he was going to swing. We waited. We waited for what felt like minutes. With my eyes closed I prayed to any divines listening that they would make it not hurt. My fists clenched as I desperately tried to relax myself in preparation for the first lash.

 

My stomach sank once couldn't feel the paddle anymore. I could hear that deadly whistle as he raised it up and forcefully slammed it back against my ass. The stinging-- by the gods the stinging. Not even the razor of Mehrunes Dagon could bring that much pain. It felt like thousands of tiny needles were suddenly rammed straight into my flesh and thrashed about deep within my muscle. My vision went blurry and my shoulders slammed into the front of the pillory as the paddle rocked me to my core. For a moment I'd begun to wonder if that's what getting kicked by an ox felt like. The gag in my mouth came in handy when I needed to bite down on something. The crowd couldn't get enough of the loud  _ SMACK _ that it made. I don't know what hurt worse, the paddle or the humiliation of it all.

 

Walks-In-Shadows was crying as he awaited his first lash. After seeing what I had just gone through he couldn't contain himself. I watched the paddle go up and quickly swoop back down, making him scream through his muzzle as the soaked wood slapped hard against him. As soon as his was done it was my turn. I braced myself but nothing helped. The pain was too much to bear. They had to let me catch my breath because I'd collapsed from how bad it hurt. I was sure that my ass was bleeding by this point. It had to have been maybe the sixth lash, I honestly can't remember. Each one felt worse than the first, counting wasn't really a priority at that point. Argonians must have some tough skin, not once did he even drop his weight during his lashes.

 

Once the final lash of our set was given to us they immediately locked us both up in the same wooden yokes that the other two prisoners were trapped in. Just when we'd thought it was all over there was still one more task in store for us. We were leashed together to form a makeshift train and forced to walk behind one of the guards that had brought us down there. I then knew exactly what the yokes were for. As we were being paraded around the streets of Whiterun the stinging sensation from the paddle was coming back even worse than earlier. I wanted to desperately to rub the pain out but my hands were locked at shoulder height. This also proved to be an effective restraint against the bloodthirsty crowd. When it's not them receiving the punishments they could be absolutely ruthless. If I had a septim for every time someone smacked my extremely wounded ass as we were marching through the streets I could own half of Whiterun on my own.

 

We had to have marched for at least an hour. My legs were ready to give at any moment but the guards didn't seem to care all too much. Somehow I had managed not to trip over anything, but I'll be damned if I didn't find every dagger-sharp rock in the road. When we were finally walking up the stairs towards Dragonsreach I couldn't have been happier. The crowd was hot on our heels as we made our way back towards the dungeon. Some of them threw things at us while others wanted one final parting shot. The gags were left on when we were put back in our cells. They had keyholes on them so we couldn't remove them ourselves. I'm sure this was to keep us quiet because otherwise we would have been constantly screaming from how much pain we were still in.

 

Walks-In-Shadows and I shared the cell for a few more hours before a guard came by and walked us back to the entrance of the dungeon. We were handed a set of featureless worker's clothes and instructed to make our way to Dragonsreach to speak to the Jarl about what would be done to finally earn our freedom. Also as promised the collars were not removed but we were allowed to proceed unrestrained otherwise. To make a long story short we worked a lot of odd jobs around the city under the close watch of the guards, but we never left each other's side. Call it noble or whatever, but that Argonian truly was the only friend I had in this city at that point.

 

As of a few days ago our last job was done. The guards seemed pretty happy to release us, which wasn't something I was entirely expecting all things considered. We had our possessions returned to us at the Dungeon's entrance and the collars finally removed for good. Despite the brutality that we'd all suffered that day during our parade I'm happy to say that Whiterun's not all that bad. Some people paid us for the work we did while others-- well didn't. No matter how you look at it though there I definitely learned a lesson after it all. I just hope that my story teaches the same lesson as well, because nobody deserves to go through what we did that day.

**Author's Note:**

> This was heavily inspired by me falling back in love with Skyrim again after years of it gathering dust in my Steam library. I'd discovered some "fun" mods to try and this story is a product of all of that delicious debauchery. I needed to practice some writing, and well here you have it.


End file.
